


Eat My Sawblade

by NocturnLily



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drabble, Mild Blood, Non-canon Medic, Short & Sweet, especially when they're mouthy shitheads who've earned it, female medic - Freeform, i love putting scouts through the ringer, koth_viaduct
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:01:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22655956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NocturnLily/pseuds/NocturnLily
Summary: Fem!Medic is having no shit today. A short one-off with a non-canon medic who's forced to fend for herself because fuck support, amirite?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Eat My Sawblade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maemmaharel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maemmaharel/gifts).



A spray of snow kicked up behind BLU's Medic, a barrage of mini-gun rounds hot on her heels as she booked it to cover. The alpine air stung as she struggled to catch her breath, each exhale pluming aggressively against a steadily greying sky. Flurries were getting heavier, the pressure to keep Viaduct's central point and beat the incoming storm was mounting. Voices and gunfire were approaching quickly, and the medic risked peeking around the corner, only to get shooed back by a missed shot. She looked to the respawn grate, to the stairs next to her and back again; restlessness wanted so badly to spurn her to better cover, to avoid RED's push into their territory—

The pre-emptive whirr of another mini-gun and the aggravated yelling from BLU's respawn was like a floodgate of relief. She yanked the lever on her medigun, taking aim first at the Soldier; he caught the blast back of a rocket, but had made it close enough to the medic's healing grace that the impact was negligible. Forward he ran again, launching himself in the air and catching the enemy's Demoman in a slap fight mid-air.

Second out was their Pyro. A hot blast of air enveloped the medic, tossing about locs that weren't yet long enough to tie into her bun. Another cautionary measure, flames licked the steel of the building and warmed her backside to an almost uncomfortable degree. Satisfied there were no spies lurking, the firebug offered a thumbs up before running into the fray.

But the Heavy, _that's_ who she waited for. The healing fumes snaked their way towards and around the bruiser, and the shorter woman sprinted quickly to get behind him. The snow fell as heavy as his bullets did, now; even better, BLU was making headway.

She'd gotten too comfortable and nearly paid for it as a pair of scouts finessed their way behind BLU lines, making straight for her. She yelled for help, but the rest of her team were embroiled in their own conflicts. The medic was on her own.

Lovely.

Latching her medigun to its holster, she opted instead for her syringe gun. It was a gamble but she banked on buying herself some time; if she could maintain distance, someone could finish the job and she could get back to keeping the team alive. Unfortunately, it was a gambit that failed her. The rest of the team continued the push, locking RED in their spawn, leaving her with two very energetic problems.

Worse, with her abandoned, the scouts now became bold enough to fake her out. If she would be left to fend for herself, so be it. The syringe gun was belted, abandoned in favour of her übersaw. One began spouting crass insults, and the other faltered before following his teammate's lead. Like garish, antagonistic parrots, they squawked and hooted their jeers as they ventured uncomfortably close. They dared her to lash out, to be distracted by remarks of inferiority. The medic just... laughed.

She laughed and laughed.

And then one flew a little too close.

The medic was on him immediately, catching his jacket in a vice grip before ramming the business end of her saw into his throat. He gurgled, eyes wide as he struggled to parse the sudden separation of his vocal chords. The spray of blood stained the left side of her coat, and she let him drop like rocks as she brushed away excess, runny crimson. The medic fixed the remaining scout, now, with a deadly calm.

For the scout, this was hardly new ground; he died with his team day in and day out. But the backdrop of gunfire disturbing the otherwise-quiet snowfall, the medic staring him down with no one to interrupt or intercept them... the implicit promise of a similar demise; it was an intimate, unnerving moment that locked him in place. It was all the medic needed. She bent quickly, fisting part of the dead scout's jacket and hurling the corpse before she lost it to respawn. The living scout fumbled with the lanky cadaver, tossing it aside to invite the medic's saw into his belly.

He tried to swing at her, a desperate attempt at fighting back, but she intercepted the bat and sunk the blade deeper. Green eyes locked with fiery black ones, the medic's exhale trembling with self-satisfied adrenaline, and she grinned as the younger man whimpered, terrified.

"You fucked up, boy," she whispered, before yanking out her saw to crack it across the scout's face.

It wasn't a killing blow, but he bled too quickly to do anything more than convulse pathetically in the snow. Viaduct's speaker system blared, trumpeting BLU's victory through the base. What a shame, she was just getting into a groove.

No thanks to the team, to no one's surprise.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this as a little welcome to celebrate the minty new status of maem's AO3! ~~and also maybe to encourage her into tf2 cause support mains need to stick together dammit!~~


End file.
